


Broken Lyres

by MiladyDeWinter (Techno_Queen)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Author is Evil, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Gen, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, What Have I Done, this is why i can't have nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 00:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Techno_Queen/pseuds/MiladyDeWinter
Summary: They say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes.





	Broken Lyres

**Author's Note:**

> "I leant upon a coppice gate
> 
> When Frost was spectre-grey,
> 
> And Winter's dregs made desolate
> 
> The weakening eye of day.
> 
> The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
> 
> Like strings of broken lyres,
> 
> And all mankind that haunted nigh
> 
> Had sought their household fires." – "The Darkling Thrush" by Thomas Hardy

They say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes.

One thing that Jack Frost knew, however, was that it had never happened to him, not even as a human. When he had drowned, frozen and alone in the frostbitten lake, there was no sudden revelation, no resurfacing of old memories. There had only been cold and darkness and fear, and a desperate struggle for life which he had eventually lost.

As a spirit, too, he had several close scrapes, sometimes only remaining alive through sheer luck, yet he never saw his life flashing before him. Each and every time, there was only the pulse of adrenaline and terror as he fought to keep his life.

Like now.

He was dying, his already-chilled blood freezing and crystallizing slowly in his veins, the cold inching towards his slow-beating heart. He'd never felt cold before, his powers as a winter spirit preventing that, but now? Now he was _freezing._

_He was dying, and his life wasn't flashing before his eyes._

A shuddering breath slipped haltingly past his lips, and he noticed with a sort of dazed surprise that he was exhaling small ice crystals. He'd seen something similar happen to humans when in colder weather, the warm breath condensing in a fine mist in front of their faces, but he honestly didn't see how that could be happening to him. Wasn't his breath normally _cold_?

A sharp stab of bone-chilling pain suddenly hit his chest with the force of a small sledgehammer, and he doubled over, nearly shrieking in pain, bloodstained hands clamped tightly over the wound that almost led to his heart. With another violent shiver, he noticed that his hands were growing numb, and with a dawning horror he saw the normally-pale tips of his slender fingers turn a dark shade of ash-gray.

 _Like frostbite_ , he realized dully, and the thought abruptly caused his slowing heartbeat to spike. Whatever had happened to him, it definitely had not been good.

...What had happened to him, anyway? He couldn't remember anymore. Something to do with...the Guardians? Maybe?

His fractured train of thought finally crumbled when another jarring pang of frozen agony seemed almost to rip his heart in two, and he screamed, curled tightly into a ball as he could only wait for the pain to pass. Through his almost-shut eyelids, he noticed a thin layer of ice, ice that was definitely not his own, form over his chest, gently inching towards his heart.

_Damn._

He needed to do something, or else he would freeze where he sat. Swearing thinly under his breath, he clawed at the deadly covering of ice, ripping his fingers to bloody shreds as he pried off piece after glass-sharp piece. It worked, for a little while, his desperate scrabbling forcing the ice to make a retreat, but just as soon as he got rid of it it reformed, once again making its fatal advance.

_Damn. Damn damn damn. Damn it to the moon and back!_

Finally giving up with an anxious snarl, he instead reached for the staff at his side, picking it up with difficulty as his fingers refused to cooperate. Shivering and trembling, he forced himself to his feet, legs shaking underneath him as black spots danced merrily across his vision.

At his mental call, the wind whooshed in among the sparse scattering of snow-covered pine trees, curling around him protectively, ready to indulge his every whim. He tried his best to think through the fog that hindered his brain, suddenly forgetting where exactly he'd wanted to go.

When at last he'd sorted things out in his head ( _get somewhere warm, and quickly_ ), he felt the wind coil closer around him, in preparation for flight. He really didn't want to fly right now, for he felt lightheaded and dizzy, but it seemed to be about as optional as it would be pleasant-

"Jack!"

Though the steadily-thickening haze that enshrouded his thoughts, his brain registered a shout from behind, followed by the thud of a hand clasping his shoulder. Instinctively, he shied away from the touch, nearly falling over as he attempted to stagger away from possible danger.

"Oh no, ya don't!"

The alien grip grabbed him by both of his shoulders, paying no attention to his startled yelp as it whirled him around to face his potential enemy. His vision suddenly took a turn for the worse, blacking out for a brief moment before gradually lightening. The sudden movement had disoriented him, making his head spin and his heart race, and it was a little while before he returned to his senses enough to make out what the other person was saying.

"-ya alright? Jack, answer me!"

Was that...Bunny?

What was _Bunny_ doing here?

He attempted to voice the question, words slurring and tumbling together semi-incoherently. "B-Bunny? What...what're you doing here?"

His fellow Guardian's bright green eyes were the only things he could make out with perfect clarity, the rest of the world around him blending and blurring into a mess of gray and white. Distantly, he realized that he could no longer feel Bunny grabbing his arms.

He wondered, half-deliriously, if this was how it felt like to die from cold.

"Yer not gonna die."

He laughed, then, the ice shards inside his lungs ripping and tearing at his insides as his maniacal giggles forced them upwards. Pain stabbed again through his chest and shoulders, but he continued to laugh, doubled over, only Bunny's tight hold on him preventing him from collapsing entirely. Oh, Bunny may hope all he wanted to, but hope did not bring about miracles, and only a miracle could save poor, frozen, dying Jack Frost.

Bunny, on his part, became almost wrathful. "Will ya stop it, ya showpony?! How the hell can ya laugh at a time like this?"

He didn't have the chance to explain, hysterical uncontrollable laughter mixing with cries of pain as the agony in his chest built up to almost unbearable levels. He felt his breath constrict, and through the cackles he noticed the layer of ice on his chest thicken and widen, encircling his ribcage before beginning to slowly crush him.

Bunny noticed it as well, curse words making their appearance as he lowered Jack not-so-gently to the ground before crouching beside him and pulling at the ice, using his claws for leverage as he tried to peel the choking layer away. The ice cracked and splintered easily, falling away in small shards, but more grew back at the same rate as it was removed.

When dark red blood finally began to stain gray fur, Jack attempted to intervene, small giggles still bursting forth randomly. "Bunny...st-stop it. It's no use-"

"If it keeps ya from dyin', I'm doin' it." Bunny retorted stubbornly.

Jack grew more alarmed when Bunny accidentally carved a deep gash in the center of his palm, blood bubbling forth freely from the wound. "Bunny, please stop, you're h-hurting yourself-"

"No!"

Alarm turned to panic as Bunny ripped savagely at the ice, shredding his paws into a bloody mess. Jack attempted to pull away, desperate to stop Bunny from harming himself further. "Bunny, stop it! I'm fine! Stop!"

"Yer not fine, yer dyin-"

"Then let me die already and stop injuring yourself for no reason!"

Bunny's green eyes narrowed, and Jack noticed with growing dread that even the bright green was no longer easy to make out, his own vision grayed out and blurry. Bunny's voice rumbled angrily. "I'm not letting ya die, Jack."

"...Well, l-looks like you d-don't have much of a choice, do y-you?"

"Don't say that-"

"It's true, t-though. I'm g-going to die. So you m-might as well give up."

Something much like sorrow and anger flashed across Bunny's face. "Jack...no. Listen. North's on his way. If I can keep ya alive till then-"

"-Which you can't-"

"-Shut up. If I can keep ya alive till then, North can help ya, he can reverse the spell. Then, after yer healed, we can go after Old Man Winter and show him just whom he's dealin' with."

It sounded almost possible...but no. By the time North arrived, by the time Jack was taken to the pole, by the time spells had been found and cast, he'd be long dead. Old Man Winter (if he was indeed the one who had done this, Jack's memory was still fairly spotty) had done his work well.

Bunny, too, clearly realized this, his ears lowering shortly after he made his statement, a distraught expression on his face. Jack softened his voice, now a mere whisper, as he attempted once more to knock sense into the rabbit's head. "Bunny. _I'm going to die._ "

The Guardian of Hope looked...lost, for lack of a better word, much like a puppy left in the streets. He hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do, before suddenly opening his arms and enveloping Jack in a hug.

The winter spirit stiffened as a cascade of warmth was registered by his numbed nerves. Far from what was needed to heal him, the warmth's sole purpose was to comfort him in his last moments, and surprisingly enough, it worked. Jack Frost, the cold-hearted winter spirit without a home or family to call his own, the spirit who had survived for three centuries in the harshness of loneliness and sorrow, felt, for the first time in three centuries, completely at peace with the world.

He felt his eyes shut despite himself, felt rigidity creeping into his muscles, felt the cold finally claim his heart...and he was _content._

Though the haze, he thought he heard the last words he would ever hear, Bunny's voice coming as if from far away, in a promise of "I won't let ya die alone."

 _I know you won't_ , he wanted to reply. _I know you won't._

Without warning, it happened. Memories sprung to mind, leaping to the surface from where they had long lain buried. Once again, he was with his sister, once again, he drowned, once again, he was alone, and once again, he found his purpose and his life, his meaning and his function.

In that moment, as he froze to death in the middle of the Yukon, Jack Frost's life flashed before his eyes for the first and final time.

**Author's Note:**

> ...So. Looks like I just killed Jack. Whoopsies.
> 
> Anyway, about the exhaling ice crystals thing: The air naturally contains moisture. Now, when Jack breathed in, the spell had made him so cold inside that the minuscule water droplets in the air froze into ice inside his lungs. Kinda like the opposite of what happens when your breath condenses in cold weather.


End file.
